Sandcastles
by miley-avril
Summary: "We could build sandcastles, I'll be the queen, you'll be my king" Hook and Emma get lost in the Neverland forest, which leads to a very honest and vulnerable conversation between the two. Pre-Captain Swan. Spoilers for the season 2 finale for those who haven't seen it yet. Rated T for language and an obnoxious amount of feels.


_We could build sandcastles, I'll be the queen, you'll be my king._

_We're only lost children, trying to find a friend, trying to find our way back home._

* * *

As Hook and Emma pass that tree with an 'x' in it for the sixth time, the blonde lets out an annoyed huff, followed by,

"We're going in circles, Hook."

"Aye, that we are, Lass." He agrees with a solemn nod. In truth, he's known about their little turn around for the last half hour or so, but he hadn't wanted to say anything so as not to frighten Emma –though he doubts she'd admit it– since they were a good five miles from anyone, even the Crocodile. A few feet ahead of him, she abruptly stops. As annoyed as Hook was when she had somehow squeezed her way past him the third time they passed the tree (he would rather _not_ have to explain to David that he had lost track of his daughter), he doesn't mind it now. He's much happier with the infamous Emma Swan glare being directed at the trees than at him. Suddenly, though, she whirls around and he still gets glared at, anyway.

"I thought you knew where we were going!" Her hands land on her hips. He can see how tense she is, which makes him tense in case she decides to take a swing at him.

"In case you haven't noticed, Love, it's very easy to get lost in these woods. Besides, I'm not as perfect as you think; even Captain Hook has his moments." He practically spits his nickname out, as if, suddenly, he's disgusted by it.

"I never _said_ you were perfect! God, you cocky, arrogant, son of a bitch… you're an _asshole_, Hook! All you had to do was get me to the freaking mermaids so I can ask them where Henry is, but you can't even do that!" Hook doesn't like angry Emma, nor does he know what to do with her, but he's hoping that if he can keep her yelling long enough, maybe her parents or someone will hear her and find them.

"Well, what do you want me to do, Swan!?" It's not the fact that his voice is a little louder than normal, it's the tone that gets Emma. The way he sounds so hurt behind the anger, and it deflates her.

"I don't know, we could build sandcastles." She says, lacking some of her usual sarcasm as she stares out into the ocean from the tree line. Hook had purposely kept them in sight of the ocean at all times so that they couldn't get _too _lost. Unfortunately, they still managed to get a _little_ lost. Sensing that her little outburst is over and her body's tense _now_ because she's fighting tears, Hook takes a step forward.

"Emma…"

"It's kinda ironic." She gives a humorless chuckle, blinking rapidly as moisture gathers along her lash line. "I'm a princess. I should be living in a castle. Hell, I should've been _raised_ in one." She turns from him, swiping the back of her hand across her face. Hook frowns. When he said what he said on the beanstalk, about her having been abandoned, he didn't know just how deep it went. He almost regrets making her think about it. Not that she wouldn't have anyway. He knows that he never stops thinking about what his father did to him. It's always in the back of his mind, influencing every move he makes. Ever since he'd met Emma, he'd wanted to know her. He wanted to know more about her than anyone. Maybe at the time it was for selfish reasons, like bragging rights (but, who would he actually brag to?) or to use against her in case Cora became the better option. But as more pieces of the puzzle that is Emma Swan started to click, he realized he wanted to know her because he loved her. He always has, and he realizes that fact now as she unravels in front of him. Even in his 300 plus years, he's never seen anyone more beautiful. A pang of anxiety hits at the thought of Emma being so distraught– he has no clue as to how to help her– but as quickly as it comes, it leaves, and he doesn't even remember closing the remaining distance between the two of them when he realizes she's in his arms.

"It's okay, Emma. We're going to find your lad." He soothes.

"You don't –you don't know that." She hiccups.

"Yes, I do."

"How?" Emma whispers. She desperately wants to believe him, but her cynicism is kicking up again and she's fighting it.

"Because your _family_," he accents the word, "has a knack for finding each other. And if Henry's anything like his mother, he'll be okay."

"Thank you, Hook." The way she says his name, it tugs strings on his heart he didn't even know he has. She makes it sound like a _real_ name… like a nickname. He's drawn from his thoughts when she speaks again. "For helping us… for risking everything for us. You came back for me, and no one has ever done that. So thank you."

"Well, Lass, I know a thing or two about being abandoned and alone. But I think you have it backwards. _I _should be thanking _you_. You've given me a chance at a home and a family. I promise you won't regret giving it to me."

"I believe that." She says softly, then pauses, as if making a decision. She says more forcefully, almost in a commanding way, "Let's go find Henry and get back to Storybrooke. I'm already missing pizza." He watches her trample through the woods for a moment before he follows, a single word uttered under his breath,

"Home."


End file.
